


Pack Life Scenes

by ract46



Series: Pack Master [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ract46/pseuds/ract46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work will be a collection of scenes set at various different times throughout my Pack Master series stories.  Each chapter will be a stand-alone story/scene, so I will set it as complete when each new scene/chapter is added.</p><p>Scene-01 -- Yuletide<br/>Scene-02 -- Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yuletide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd.
> 
> This is a future fic set around four and half years after the end of Sith of Beacon Hills.  
>   
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There was a chill on the air; frost coated the ground and clung to the branches, bathing everything in shimmering white and silver.  A child’s scream pierced the air, followed by more as the clambering feet of seventeen five year olds run through the forest, laughing, shouting, and screaming in joy.

 

“Daddy, daddy, this one, this is the one we should take home,” little Iseabail calls to Stiles as she runs around the large Scotch Pine, the infectious excitement radiating from her soon has her siblings clamouring in unison.

“Please daddy,” shouts Dermot, pulling on the sleeve of Stiles’s jacket.

“Please,” wails Caitlin, her bottom lip quivering as she gives Stiles her best puppy dog eyes.

“Has your oma-Scott been teaching you how to do that?” he asks her.

“Daddy!?” she wails even louder with her eyes wide, “Please, can we get this tree?”

The other fourteen kids are all excitedly shouting too, all asking Stiles and their respective fathers and omas.

“Please, we want this tree”.  “It’s the bestest tree ever”. And several variations thereof.

“Will granma, and granpa John, and granpa Chris help bless the tree?” Lucas asks turning to his oma, Scott, and his daddy, Derek.

“I’m sure they’ll help decorate it when we take it home,” Scott replies, making his son smile.

 

“We need to ask the tree first,” Stiles is saying to the small horde of children surrounding him, “Let’s all ask it.”   He walks up to the tree and places a palm against its trunk; the children all copy him, some kneeling down and crawling under their siblings.

“O' síorghlas, mighty crann, tú a bhfuil iomlán den saol,” he begins before repeating in English the blessing that he found in the book ‘Yule: A Celebration of Light and Warmth’ by Dorothy Morrison; the children and their parents joining in,   
“O’ evergreen, mighty tree, you are full of life.  
I'm about to make the cut, and ask your permission.  
We will take you into our home and honour you,  
Adorning you with light in this season of the sun.  
We ask you, o’ evergreen, to bless our home with your energy.”

 

The kids all stand back as Derek swings the axe; he doesn’t hit the tree, it’s more symbolism and ritual, as Stiles’s magic lifts the tree, roots and all, from the ground.

 

  


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The seven-foot tree is placed in the den, its roots embedded deeply in the earth beneath the floor.

 

The children, and Isaac, are an excited gaggle of babbling noise as the sit around the tables with pots of glue and containers of gold and silver glitter.  Isaac’s hands are covered in gold and silver glitter as his mischievously wiggles his fingers towards his kids Dermot, Laura, and Joshua.  Laura squeals in delight at the threat of being tickled by her oma’s glitter covered fingers, but Dermot decides to defend his siblings and himself from their oma’s attack by throwing one of the pots of gold glitter over Isaac’s head.

“DERMOT LUCIFER LAHEY-STILINSKI!” Stiles calls out, too late, as the other kids join in the fun and soon they are all covered in more of the glitter than the pine cones and acorns they were supposed to be decorating.

 

“Oma was gonna tickle us,” Dermot offers in defence of his actions once the adults have managed to call a cease-fire in the glitter war.

“Then you tickle him back, you don’t start a glitter fight,” Stiles admonishes.

“Oma-Isaac is all sparkly,” Erin calls out.

“You’re all, all sparkly,” Ethan replies, “Come on, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“But we haven’t put the decorations on the tree!” Leila exclaims in horror.

“Well no more throwing glitter on each other,” Stiles sternly tells them, “And lets quickly finish and then tidy up.”

 

Soon, with the help of all the pack, and the grandparents, and Allison and Lydia, the tree is adorned with acorns and pine cones dusted with gold and silver glitter and tied to the tree with red string.  Cranberries were strung together by the gown-ups and now meander their way through the branches.  Silver and gold bells are tied to the branches with red ribbon, and small ornamental robins and wrens are dotted around and peer out from the tree’s green foliage.  Six pointed snowflakes hang here and there, and twinkling white lights (instead of candles) curl down from the upper branches until the reach bottom.

 

Sprigs of holly and ivy are adorning the walls throughout the house; growing from the walls of the Sithen.  The scent of orange, cinnamon and nutmeg hanging in the air.

 

“Now, bath time,” Ethan reminds the kids.

“You too Issy,” Derek commands Isaac with a smirk.

 

  


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“I never thought we’d get the kids down to sleep,” Isaac says as he walks into the den; Scott, Jackson, and Ethan following him.

“Maybe ‘cause someone got them over excited,” Jackson glares at him.  Isaac blushes in reply.

“I think they were more excited than last year about the tree,” Scott adds.

“Probably ‘cause last year they were only four and didn’t get to go out running around the forest to help pick the tree,” Jackson scoffs, “And I still think they were too young this year,” he adds scowling at Stiles where he’ lounging on the couch; Danny leaning on one side of him, Aiden lying with his head in Stiles’s lap, and Matt curled up at his feet.

“Pft, they had fun,” Stiles dismisses as Danny pulls Jackson down onto his lap.

“Besides,” Stiles continues, “We were all there with them; they were safe and they enjoyed themselves.”

“Doesn’t mean they should be around axes even if they aren’t felling trees,” Jackson frowns at his mate.

“We were on our land, nothing was going to happen to our kids; the Sithen would protect them,” Stiles firmly rebukes his blond wolf.

“Doesn’t stop me worrying about them,” Jackson huffs.

“Me too,” Stiles smirks, hooking his fingers under Jackson’s chin and pulling the wolf towards him to steal a kiss from his mate’s lips.

 

The rest of the pack settle around the den, close to the couch and Stiles.

 

On the two seater Derek is sitting next to Scott, and Isaac is in Scott’s lap with his legs stretched out over Derek’s.  Jordan is on the chair opposite, with Liam sitting on his knee.  Ethan has lifted his brother’s legs and taken the space on the couch next to Stiles, letting Aiden lay across him so his head is still resting on his master’s lap.

 

“It’s gonna be hectic tomorrow,” Scott says, “And the kids seem to wake really early.”

“At least we already have all their present wrapped and hidden,” Danny adds, “We just need to put them under the tree; then we can get a couple of extra hours in bed while they tire themselves out playing before we get up.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Stiles says, “What time are the ’rents coming over?  Maybe they could arrive early to keep an eye on the kids while we play with our own new toys?”

“What new toys?” Scott asks intrigued.

“You’ll need to wait until tomorrow to open your presents,” Stiles smiles wickedly at him.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during the start of 'Claiming a submissive Pack'.
> 
> The chapter is unbeta'd.

 

He’s kneeling at the bottom of the bed, his legs spread wide by the bar cuffed to his ankles, and tied firmly to the corners of the bed’s base.  His torso is stretched up towards the headboard, his arms pulled tightly over his head and the cuffs around his wrists tied to top corners of the bed by the lengths of rope.  There’s drool running down his chin from around the ball gag in his mouth.

 

His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and he tries to shake it loose, but that only jingles the chain linked between the cock ring around his balls and hard shaft, and the clamps biting in to his nipples; it makes them pull painfully on the abused nubs and his cock jumps at the sensation.  He’s been played with and teased for hours and not allowed to cum.

 

He feels the rivulet of sweat run down his back, heading toward his neck because of his position as the cool breeze blows in through the open bedroom window and plays over his naked body.  The sound of the police cruiser pulling out of the driveway filters in from outside.

 

“You look so fucking hot like that Sourwolf,” Stiles’s voice startles him and he sharply turns to look towards the door, jerking the clamps on his nipples, “Of course, I think I told you that before I left you all tied up and went down to have dinner with my dad.  We didn’t want him coming up here and finding you naked, hard, and dripping, all over my bed.”

 

Stiles stalks towards him; pulling off one item of clothing with each step until he’s as naked as Derek, and his cock is just as hard and slapping against his abs with each step.

“Time for round two, or is it three,” he smirks down at the naked beta werewolf.

 

Derek whimpers around the gag in his mouth as Stiles fingers slide over his exposed hole.  He strains to push back on the fingers, but his movement is restricted by the bondage holding him in place and Stiles fingers move out of reach whenever he tries.  He stills his movement and waits.

 

Stiles slicks his fingers with lube and returns to tapping at the ring of muscle, it clenches and relaxes; opening under the relentless teasing.  He taps his fingers against the clenched entrance and watches as it opens up, a little ‘o’, as if waiting to be filled before it closes again.  He repeats the tapping and this time his finger slips in and slides to his knuckles before he pulls it out and runs the tip around the rim of Derek’s hole.  He watches as Derek’s toes curl and the wolf strains against the chains, rope, and leather, to push back.  Grinning down at the beta he slides two fingers into him, pressing the tips of them against his inner walls as he runs them around the heated tunnel searching for the button.  At Derek’s gasped huff against the rubber ball in his mouth Stiles knows he’s found the spot.

 

When he pulls his fingers out of Derek’s ass he slides his uncovered sixteen year old hard cock in to the hilt; getting lost in the moist heat of the twenty three year old werewolf’s tight ass.  He still marvels at the fact this older, stronger, man submits to him, lets him spank and fuck him.  But then he’s beginning to understand the dynamics.

“Yeah, this what you want, what you need, isn’t it Sourwolf?” he half moans as he thrusts into the pliant wolf, the chains on the nipple clamps jingling as they pull and tug at Derek’s sensitive flesh.

“You need to know your place, don’t you?  Need someone to follow, to be your alpha; someone for you to obey.”

 

Stiles has one hand on Derek’s hips and with the other he grasps Derek’s leaky cock.  His fingers curls around the hard shaft and slide up and down, pulling the foreskin back and exposing the head; his thumb sliding around the glans and over the crown before returning along the shaft.  His pace quickens as he nears his release.

“Come for me Sourwolf, show me how much you love my cock in your ass,” he commands the bound wolf.

 

With a howl muffled by the gag in his mouth Derek sprays his release over the bed beneath him as Stiles fills his ass.

 

Stiles collapses on Derek’s back, and unfastens the strap of the ball gag.  Derek turns his head to look at the boy lying on top of him, and Stiles stretches his neck to take the wolf’s lips in a kiss.

“Love you Sourwolf.”

“Love you too, Sir.”

“Let’s get cleaned up and grab you something to eat before we take a nap,” Stiles says as he gets off of Derek’s back and starts to unfasten the bondage securing him in place; he runs his hands over the werewolf’s limbs, massaging his legs and arms, before passing him the bottle of water.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There are several stories I am working on. So please comment if this is one that you like; comments help me focus when I'm being pulled in different directions by thoughts jumping from one story to another.


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